by Nathan Roden
“Does Lady Jacobs know?”
“She does.”
“Good,” Boone said. “If vengeance or revenge can somehow ease her loss, then I am happy for her.”
Simon raised his head and snorted fire into the air.
“I…I don’t understand,” Simon said.
“What do you not understand?”
“My entire childhood—I was weak,” Simon said. “And helpless. I don’t know how I stayed alive. You were fearless, even as a young boy. You saved my life—more than once.”
Simon looked away.
“I’ve changed. I’ve grown up. I no longer have to be a burden to you. But since you met Helena, you have changed as well. We used to spend whole days together. You taught me everything I know.”
“There is more to life than hunting and killing,” Boone said.
“Not for me,” Simon said.
Boone sighed.
“It is true. We have not spent enough time together lately, my friend. I worry that you might forget…”
“What?”
“You’re a man, Simon. On the inside where it matters.”
“Each day that goes by now, I feel like less of a man,” Simon said. “I am surrounded by people who care for each other. I see people, like you, in love. And I…I have feelings, too. But these feelings have no fulfillment. They have nowhere to go. I do not belong—anywhere. My feelings only sour in my stomach and torment me. They fester and burn and I become angry—”
“I do care about you, Simon, but we need you to pull yourself together—”
“I don’t know how!”
Helena burst through the trees. She cast a worried look at Boone and then Simon.
“Oh. There you are. You’re back. That’s good. Jaclyn and the baby are fine.”
Helena forced a smile.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“No. Don’t be silly,” Simon said.
“When shall we leave for Islemar?” Helena asked. “I believe the queen is strong enough.”
“We should go as quickly as possible,” Boone said. “Are you going to carry them?”
Simon shook his head.
“It’s too dangerous. We’ll take a coach.”
“A coach?” Boone said. “Where are we going to get a coach?”
Simon raised his head and blew a blast of fire—higher and more intense than any Boone had ever seen from his friend’s mouth.
“The kingdom’s stables—or the nearest stables we can find! It makes no difference!”
Boone and Helena shared a worried glance.
They heard shouting coming from near the stream where Jaclyn and the baby were. Boone, Helena, and Simon ran in that direction.
Noah Lamont and Oliver Vaughn lowered their swords. Tanner Raven and Lady Magdalena had surprised them. Tanner lowered his hands as Magdalena ran and threw her arms around Jaclyn. They wept together. Jaclyn handed Magdalena the baby.
“By the gods!” Magdalena exclaimed. “He’s so beautiful!”
“Of course, he is,” Noah said. “He’s my nephew.”
“I had nothing to do with it.” Jaclyn said.
Noah hugged his sister.
“Don’t be silly. With my good looks and your stinging wit, the child cannot lose.”
“My king,” Oliver addressed Simon. “Are you all right? I believe I saw you crash through the trees.”
“Oh?” Jaclyn said. “Simon? Are you hurt?”
“No,” Simon said, a little too sternly.
“Where did you go?” Jaclyn asked.
“I went to observe Sterling’s troop movements. He was moving cannons toward Islemar. I slowed him down.”
“What happened?” Noah asked.
Simon narrowed his eyes.
“It seems that the kingdom is officially under Sterling’s rule. For now.”
“What do you mean?” Jaclyn asked.
“The blood seal of protection wrought by King Vehaillion—it now protects Sterling. The spell deflected my fire.”
“Oh, no!” Jaclyn said.
“What can we do to stop him?” Noah said.
Simon snorted flames into the air. His angry eyes burned with orange fire.
“The spell protects him from magic, but that is all. Aside from magic, he will bleed and die just like any other man.”
Simon laughed. A wicked laugh.
“What is so funny?” Jaclyn asked.
“What is so funny?” Simon repeated. “The side of Sterling’s face is what is funny! I needed no magic to push a red-hot shield against his face. Now, when he turns the heads of women, it will be because of fear and disgust! Now, he is a monster! Just like me!”
No one joined in Simon’s laughter.
“Did my father send you?” Noah asked Magdalena and Tanner.
“No,” Magdalena said. “I have to get something from my house.”
“Now?” Oliver said. “We are on the brink of war. What is so important?”
“My books,” Magdalena said. “My books and notes I was given by the sorcerer who taught me. I will need them…to put an end to the curse.”
Jaclyn stepped next to Simon and put her hand on his side.
“What a wonderful day that will be—for you, and for everyone in the kingdom!”
Simon was overwhelmed and confused. There was too much to consider; the thought of waking every morning as a man. The thought of being king of the realm. But there were dark thoughts as well. Jaclyn was his brother’s wife. She held Lucien’s son in her arms. If the curse was broken, what would become of Lucien? Lucien had nearly brought about Simon’s death. Was he capable of carrying out the same justice?
Could he murder his own brother, the father of Jaclyn’s child? It would not be out of character for a King with the Morgenwraithe name. But Simon had no desire to follow in the footsteps of his cruel ancestors.
These questions paled in comparison to what Simon felt now. The touch of Jaclyn’s hand affected him like nothing else could. Her touch was only her flesh against his scales, but brought a flush of warmth he had seldom felt. It was a feeling he could not describe.
But then rage washed over him. It came out of nowhere. It came from a foreign place; a place of darkness that threatened to consume him.
Jaclyn was not his. She would never be his.
Simon backed away from Jaclyn. Her hand fell to her side. Simon glanced down only once and saw the hurt in Jaclyn’s eyes.
He walked away.
Four
Lord Sterling Morgenwraithe laughed as he approached the dragon. The dragon was stretched taut, bound with chains between a pair of enormous and ancient trees trunks. The trunks flexed but held firm as the dragon struggled. The limbs and leaves had been burned away hours ago during the dragon’s pointless efforts to regain its freedom.
The dragon had nowhere to go—surrounded by a thousand armed soldiers. Not that Lord Sterling would allow anyone else to claim the beast’s life. No, he had waited for years to watch the life fade from this particular dragon’s eyes.
This dragon was not really a dragon at all. He was Sterling’s own cursed nephew—but not for much longer.
Simon Morgenwraithe, the dragon who should have been king, was entirely spent. His limbs and wings held no more strength and his belly was void of fire. There was nothing left now but for Sterling to end Simon’s life.
Simon’s head hung lifelessly against his chest.
Sterling leaned in where only Simon could hear his words.
“I have always hated you.”
Simon did not raise his head. He summoned the strength for his last words.
“I have killed hundreds of men while waiting for you, Uncle.”
Simon raised his head. His eyes flashed.
“You’re next.”
Sterling roared as he raised his sword high above his head.
And then Sterling screamed in pain.
King’s Guard and servants ran through Sterling’s bedroom door.
&nb
sp; “What is it? What’s wrong?” they cried.
“By the gods!” some of them said as they cringed. Two servants vomited.
It was all a dream…
Thrashing about in his sleep, Sterling had torn the bandages from his head. Pieces of partially-healed flesh had pulled away and stuck to the gruesome cloth. Blood sprayed onto his bed and bedclothes.
Three members of the King’s Guard covered their mouths and stepped back. One of them grabbed a servant by the collar.
“See to him immediately!”
Four servants scrambled about, not sure what to do.
“We are not healers, my lord!”
“Get someone competent in here at once! Call for the women!” A guard yelled. “Bring the midwives! The nursemaids! And send for Lady Jacobs!”
The servants attempted to keep Sterling still to avoid any further damage. But there was no one willing to applying any real force. Sterling pushed away from them, still screaming.
Sterling fell silent for a moment. He had caught sight of himself in a mirror.
In a fit of blind rage, Sterling tore the heavy mirror from the wall. He swung it against the wall, roaring and screaming like a wild animal.
One of the Guards grabbed another servant and whispered to him.
“Remove every mirror from the castle at once.”
“Yes, My Lord.”
That servant rounded a corner and collided with Captain Raynard. Raynard threw the servant to the floor.
“What the hell is happening here?”
Raynard stepped into the room.
“Great Vehaillion’s ghost.”
Seconds later, another servant ran into the room. He swallowed hard and stared at Sterling. He was very happy to see Captain Raynard.
“My Lord, there is something you must see.”
“What is it?” Raynard snapped.
“I cannot explain, My Lord.”
Raynard motioned the servant away. He followed.
When Raynard saw the crowd gathered in the outer courtyard, he knew the news could not be good. As he drew closer, Raynard saw villagers, guards, and soldiers staring at him with apprehension.
Raynard stopped and raised his head.
His gaze fell upon the brilliant blue robe.
And the large, bald head—its eyes now only vacant sockets.
“Get it down,” Raynard growled. “And assemble my officers. I will be in the Council Room.”
Raynard fell into a chair at the Council table.
“Bring me wine,” He said to a servant. The servant returned quickly. Raynard reached for a goblet.
“The tasters will be here soon, my lord,” the nervous servant said. Raynard ignored him.
“Who knows how many tomorrows we will see?”
The officers of the army and King’s Guard began to arrive. Sterling walked through the door, pausing to rest against the wall. His bandages had been reapplied rather sloppily. One eye, his mouth, and very little of his face was left exposed. Raynard and the officers stood. Sterling shook off the help of a servant and seated himself.
A young army officer ran into the room. He stopped quickly when he saw Sterling. Obviously, he had not expected to see him there.
“What is it, boy?” Raynard and Sterling said at the same time. Sterling’s voice was muted.
The boy held forth an envelope in a trembling hand.
“It has some type of wax seal on it, my lord. Most….most unusual.”
Raynard took the envelope. His head jerked when he saw the seal the boy spoke of.
“Is that a….?”
“I believe it is a thumb, my lord—pressed into wax.”
“Where did you get this?” Raynard asked.
“In the pocket of the giant’s robe, my lord.”
“Give it to me!” Sterling growled. Raynard nodded to the boy. The boy walked around the table and gave the envelope to Sterling.
Sterling scraped off the offensive digit on the edge of the table. He ripped open the envelope in disgust.
Inside were two words scrawled in blood.
You’re next.
Five
The three young men traveled in single file. Their horses tossed their heads, irritated by the limbs and leaves that slapped them at every step. It could not be helped.
King Lucien and his friends, Brendan and Reese, were on the run. Lucien was still months away from his seventeenth name day. His uncle, Lord Sterling Morgenwraithe, was the ruling power in the land until that time came. But after Lucien landed a punch to his uncle’s jaw, Sterling almost beat Lucien to death.
If Sterling or any member of the King’s Guard or Army found the three friends, their lives would be over.
“Where are we going?” Reese asked. Both of his arms were bleeding. He swiped his hand across his face and looked at the blood on his fingers. “I’m going to bleed to death if we stay in these woods. Or the wolves will smell us. Neither is a good way to die.”
“Not much farther,” Lucien said. “I’m going to the sorceress.”
Brendan stared at Lucien. Lucien held his left arm awkwardly across his chest. His arm had a constant tremble. Lucien winced with every step of the horse.
“We have to stop soon, Lucien,” Brendan said. “You don’t look so good.”
Lucien sat up straighter.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” Reese said. “You took a hell of a beating, Lucien. It will take time for you to heal.”
“We don’t have time,” Lucien said.
Brendan moved his horse in front of Lucien’s and stopped.
“What are you doing?” Lucien demanded.
“You’re just a boy, Lucien,” Brendan said. “Even younger than Reese and me. Sure, you’re the king and you train like a soldier. But you’ll never be the beast that Shawn was.”
Reese moved beside Brendan.
“And we watched Shawn crumble to the ground at your uncle’s hand,” Reese said. “That man is the devil.”
Brendan tapped the side of his head.
“Stay smart, your grace. What will it serve you to act proud and brave if we have to bury you in these woods?”
“We’re only men,” Reese said. “Not gods. We’ will have to keep our wits and be might lucky to stay alive.”
Lucien felt a shooting pain in his abdomen. He winced.
“You are good friends,” Lucien said. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“Ha!” Brendan said. “Who said you deserve us?”
“So, why are we going to the sorceress?” Reese asked. “I know her curse made you king, but…”
“But what?” Lucien said.
“She…she gives me the shivers, is all,” Reese said. “I don’t trust magic. Never have.”
“Well, her magic doesn’t work on me,” Lucien said. “We have a…we have an understanding. The Lady is actually quite fascinating. And Sterling despises her.”
“She can’t be all bad, then,” Brendan said. “Let’s go. You need to rest.”
Dawn broke over the village of Morgenwraithe. By the time the young men reached Lady Magdalena’s house, sweat formed on King Lucien’s forehead. Brendan and Reese watched him with concern. They helped Lucien from his horse and they walked to the door.
Lucien knocked.
“It is Lucien, my Lady. Please, open the door.”
There was no response, only the wind in the trees. Brendan knocked. Louder.
Lucien pushed on the door handle. The door was not locked.
“Are you going inside?” Reese asked.
“I told you. She cannot harm me.”
“Perhaps not, but that does not keep her from turning Brendan and me into toads!”
“Then stay here,” Lucien said as he pushed the door open.
“I’m coming with you,” Reese said. “Stay here and stand guard,” he said to Brendan.
Brendan drew his sword. He raised his head and stared into the woods. He sniffed the air.
****
The wolves became human.
“Do you see him?” Tanner whispered.
“Yes,” Magdalena replied.
“He’s in uniform,” Tanner said. “A soldier.”
“King’s Guard,” Magdalena said.
“Wonderful,” Tanner said. “Where there is one, there will be more.”
“Not necessarily,” Magdalena said. “Lucien has fled the castle, leaving Sterling and Raynard in charge of an uncertain war. There may be those who refuse to follow them.”
“Maybe,” Tanner mused. “Whoever he is, he stands between us and your house.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Magdalena said.
“Stay here,” Tanner said. “I’ll take care of him.”
“What are you going to—Tanner!”
Tanner was gone.
He ran to the edge of the forest, raised his hands, and stepped out of the trees.
“Hello, friend!” he called out.
Brendan charged to meet him, his sword raised.
“Who are you? What is your business here?”
“Do not be alarmed, my friend,” Tanner said. “My little daughter is ill. I come seeking medicine.”
“This is not the home of the healer,” Brendan said. “The healer lives on the far side of the village.”
“Yes, I know,” Tanner said. “But the Lady who lives here, Lady Magdalena, she sometimes keeps medicine as well.”
Tanner lowered his arms.
“Get your hands up!” Brendan yelled. “Put your hands behind your head!”
Tanner raised one hand. The hilt of Brendan’s sword burst into flames. Brendan screamed and threw down the sword, but it did not hit the ground. The sword flew into Tanner’s hand. He pointed it at Brendan.
“I’m sorry, my good fellow—”
Reese and Lucien burst through the door with their swords raised.
“Drop it!” Reese barked.
A blood-curling scream sounded from the woods. The men froze. The screaming continued.
“Maggie…”
Tanner crashed through the woods. The men followed closely.
